


You and Me, Editing Time

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: (sort of), A marathon of cute dates, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, F/F, Family Reunions, First Kiss, Fluff, Making Out, Teasing, an unbearable amount of teasing, gratuitous cameos, robin/say'ri tagged because morgan's heritage is brought up frequently, when you gotta make up for a decade of lost time in one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 07:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: Lucina reunites with an old friend, and an evening that had promised to be droll at best quickly cascades into a late-night tour of highways, bookstores, and all-night diners; and the rekindling of feelings Lucina had thought long gone.





	You and Me, Editing Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I wrote this in one sitting please forgive any errors ;-;
> 
> Anyway Luci/Fmorgan are cute thanks

It was strange, being back together after so many years. Lucina smiled politely, took careful, measured sips of her drink, shifted nervously in her fitted suit jacket. She didn’t like wine - she never did, particularly not whites, but staring at the sparkling bottom of her glass kept her eyes from wandering, from crossing the room and lingering too long on faces she had not seen for too long, on friends that she should have kept in touch with better than she had.

She tried not to feel guilty - she was an adult, after all, and adults drift apart. High school felt like so long ago, and it seemed like back then they had been nothing but children. Because they __were__  kids, no matter how much it felt like they weren’t. No matter how much everything felt so very real, so very There, from midnight drives through sheets of pounding rain, 2am hangovers on the floor of convenience stores, skateboarding down steep city streets, bouncing off mailboxes and trashcans. She straightened the cuff of her sleeve with her free hand. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She tucked a lock of dark indigo hair behind her ear and took another nervous sip of her drink.

A hand jostled her shoulder playfully.

“You awake in there?”

“Hey, dad,” she smiled softly. “Yeah, just…y’know. Reunions.”

Chrom returned her gaze and chuckled. “Did I ever tell you about the time Anna dragged me to her reunion?” He leaned back against the wall at her side.

“Only about a million times,” she smiled over the lip of her glass. “How’s Robin?”

“Oh, fine,” Chrom shrugged. “I haven’t spoken to her much, but Say’ri seems well.”

“I heard about her brother.”

“Ah…yeah,” Chrom said, letting their conversation fall silent on a somber note. “Terrible news.”

“Yeah,” Lucina said quietly.

She chewed the inside of her lip. She did that a lot when she was nervous - her nails, too, though the black polish deterred her from the latter.

“You okay?” Chrom nudged her again.

Lucina flashed a half-smile.

“You could try talking to people, you know.”

“Like who?”

“Uncle Freddy,” Chrom suggested. “Or Aunt Lissa, I’m sure she’s bobbing around somewhere.”

“She gave me a bunch of kisses and fifty bucks and said it was for a late birthday present.”

Chrom laughed. “Okay, well, how about some of the other kids?”

Lucina looked out at the milling crowd, trying to pick out faces she knew, frames she could identify. She spied a head of bright red hair and for a moment her heart rose - until she remembered Severa was away. Owain was too, and Inigo. Off on some adventure, no doubt, out in the big wide world. She tried not to let her caving chest show to her father. Cordelia was a kind, gentle spirit, but she was not the familiar comfort of her daughter.

“Just go talk to someone,” Chrom said, his voice slipping into a plea that made Lucina’s throat tighten. “Anyone.”

“Sorry,” she said quietly, lamenting her empty drink. She wasn’t drunk - hell, wasn’t even tipsy. She didn’t like drinking, but her stomach churned and she wished she hadn’t snacked on so many hors d'oeuvres. She wanted to go home.

“Lucina,” Chrom’s voice softened and he touched her shoulder gently. He brushed dust from the black suiting fabric and patted her.

“I’m okay, dad.”

Chrom pursed his lips. He knew there was no sense in pushing her. There never was. If she had inherited anything from him, it was his iron will. “You look beautiful, Lucina,” he said, letting his gaze shift from her downcast eyes to the empty drink in her hands. “It’d be a shame to spend the whole night in your own head.”

She nodded.

Lucina hated reunions. It’d be easier if it was really family. Some of them were, of course. Aunt Lissa, Aunt Emmeryn, cousins, distant relations. But it was friends, too, friends of her father’s. People she didn’t know well - the man in the nice suit from..Rosanne, was it? And the beautiful girl with pink hair on his arm. He and her father were friends, it seemed, though Lucina had never met either of them. And a few others, people she had met at other parties, other reunions, other gatherings.

The worst was friends of her parents’ that she knew better than them. The parents of her own friends. Kjelle’s mom, laughing raucously at some terrible joke. And hovering around her, at the awkward distance of a child brought to a place her parents wanted to go, Kjelle herself. Lucina tried not to make eye contact with her.

Kjelle had traveled, too, just like Severa, Inigo, and Owain. She had lived in Ferox, for a bit, with a host family.

Lucina pressed a hand to her stomach, slipping fingers between the folds of her suit and pressing it against her button-up shirt. Her insides felt unsettled, tangled up like spaghetti that stretched from her stomach to her aching chest. She tried steadying her breathing.

It was a beautiful night, she could focus on that. The venue they had booked was beautiful, sure, but those are the strings that Robin’s wife could pull. Robin and her wife were almost inseparable from Chrom the entire evening, talking, drinking, laughing, milling around like old friends. Lucina liked the way her father looked with them. Happy, comfortable. Happier than she had seen him be in years. He needed a night like this, a night to be with friends and family. She let her lips curve into a half-smile as one of her fathers’ friends - Vaike, she thought - clapped him on the back and made him cough.

She found a free space to set her glass down and folded her arms over her chest, trying to quell her nausea. Maybe food would help.

She picks over a tray of appetizers with disinterest, trying to find something that appeals to her queasy stomach.

“You okay, kid?”

“Hey, Miss Sully.”

Sully frowned. “What’d I tell you about calling me that?”

“Uh…” Lucina feigned thinking. “You said not to.”

“Yeah, I did.” Sully chewed thoughtfully on a cracker. “Your old man never listens to me, either.”

“Sorry.”

Sully batted her lightly. “Hey, just kidding. You feeling okay, kid?”

“Yeah, just…” Lucina shrugged. “Tired, I guess.”

“Might help to wash,” Sully suggests. “Could help perk you up a bit.”

 

-

 

Lucina stuck her hands under the cold faucet water. She could still hear the muted rustle of conversation and the soft drifting melodies of music from the comfort of the bathroom, and it added an odd, almost ethereal air to the rectangle of slick tiles and plastic stalls. She knelt over the sink and scrubbed her eyes.

It was just once a year. She could do that. She could be here for her father, just for a little bit. She brought a handful of cold water to her lips and drank. It felt cool and soothing running down her throat. It did little to settle her stomach, but the isolation helped. She slipped a hand into her pocket and withdrew her cell. She sat on the counter and leaned back against the mirror, letting her thumb fuss without purpose or direction. Her father would scold her for playing games on her phone while at an event, but this was her own space. She let herself melt just a little bit into the blur of mechanical finger motions, shifting colors and soft chirping music.

“Hiding?” a voice sounded, cutting through the stillness of the bathroom. Lucina nearly fell off the counter.

“Wha-?” she slid off and clicked her phone off.

A girl stood at her side, messy black bangs framing a small, round face. She smiled.

“Oh…hey…” Lucina’s brow furrowed, then lifted with recognition. “Oh my gosh, Morgan!” She smiled, and it wasn’t forced.  

“Hey, Luce,” Morgan grinned, her mischievous, dark eyes smothered by her hair.

“Luce?” Lucina made a face and slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket. “Gods, how long has it been since you called me that?”

“Well…” Morgan tilted her head to the side, the way she always had when she was thinking. Not of an answer, gods, no, but probably of some joke. “Ten…ten years?”

“Ten years,” Lucina repeated in awe. “No,” she said with disbelief. “Eight, right?”

Morgan nodded and brushed black hair from her eyes. “Eight years.”

“How was Chon’sin?”

Morgan shrugged. “It was cool. Crowded. Rained a lot.”

“Good food?”

“Oh, yeah,” Morgan nodded, jumping up to sit on the sink. Sitting up put her roughly at Lucina’s height. Standing, she was maybe a full foot shorter. She was wearing a dress - something flowery, thin straps, light and airy for the summer night. The light violets and gold trim matched her hair beautifully. “There was this place that made a noodle bowl you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

“I believe it, alright,” Lucina smiled. She stuck her hands in her pockets. “How are the folks?”

“Ah, well…” Morgan shrugged. “You know. When Uncle Yenny died, mom wanted to move back here, so…” She lifted her eyebrows. “So here we are?”

“I wondered about that.” Lucina leaned against a plastic stall. “You holding up okay?”

“Oh, me? Yeah, we never talked much or anything. He was always pretty busy with work and stuff.”

Lucina nodded.

For a second, she had let herself believe that things were the same. The conversation flowed so easily, no greetings necessary, like the last eight years had never even happened. Lucina had followed her social media accounts, so she had known what Morgan was up to - she saw the photos of cherry blossoms every spring, the cheesy family photos in front of historic castles, everything. But it kept coming back around to the things Lucina could never let go. Why did she ask about Yen’fay? She already knew he was dead.

Lucina’s smile faltered, for just a second.

Morgan leaned against the mirror. The silver felt cool against her bare shoulders. “Hey, Luce.”

“Hm?” Lucina looked up.

“You want to get out of here?”

 

-

 

“You sure your parents aren’t going to be upset?” Lucina slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind her.

“Nah, they’re too busy talking to your dad.” Morgan buckled herself into the passenger seat. “I wanna see stuff! God, it’s been a decade!”

“It hasn’t been __a decade__ ,” Lucina corrects, shifting into reverse. She leans back and gazes out the back window as she backs her car out of her parking space. Morgan rolls her window down with the hand-crank, letting out an audible sigh of pleasure as the warm summer air rushes over her skin. Lucina shifts again and the car rumbles. “Okay, where to first, then?”

“The freeway,” Morgan leans out the window, letting the wind tousle her hair. She flops back into her seat. “All we ever did was ride trains in Chon’sin. I wanna go __fast__.”

“Gods, you really didn’t change a bit, huh?” Lucina nudges her. “You sure you’re not still sixteen?”

Morgan feigned offense. “Please, Luce. Adults can want stupid things.”

“Okay, okay,” Lucina laughed. “Right, where do you want to take the freeway __to__?”

“Hmm…” Morgan leaned back into her seat and fumbled towards the radio’s controls. “I wanna get a milkshake. A big chocolate milkshake from Donny’s.”

Lucina grinned. “Okay.”

“And I wanna…” Morgan tilted the radio dial. “Go shopping.”

Lucina burst out laughing. “Shopping? Morgs, it’s ten o’clock on a Saturday. You want to go to the mall? In a sundress?”

“Hell yeah!” Morgan spins the dial wildly. “Hey, what’s that station? The one we always listened to in high school.”

“94.5,” Lucina said, brushing her hand back and tuning it herself. “Would you believe it if I said they’re still playing all that emo punk crap?”

“Crap?” Morgan protested. “It’s good music!”

“Sure, if you’re in high school and you’re sad that a girl doesn’t like you back,” Lucina smirked.

“As if you don’t know every word to these stupid songs.”

Lucina put her hands up as they coasted to a red light. “Okay, okay, you’re the boss.” She leaned one arm out the open window and rests it on the side of the car. “Milkshakes. Shopping. Want to study for chemistry while we’re at it?”

Morgan stuck her tongue out. “Luci, I haven’t been in Ylisstol for almost ten years, and this is the welcome I get? Being mocked by my dear, lovely friend?”

Lucina smiled softly. “I said you win.” She shifted her car into gear and pulled onto a freeway on-ramp. The car hummed beneath her, increasing in intensity as her shoe pressed further and further towards the ground. Morgan whooped, leaning towards the window, letting the warm summer wind blast her face. The car filled with rippling wind, drowning out conversation and fluttering Lucina’s hair into a flurry of tangled blue. Morgan reached a hand down to crank the radio up louder, loud enough to be heard over the wind and the roar of the engine.

Lucina stared ahead, her eyes fixed on the road, a smile slipping across her lips. Maybe some things didn’t change.

 

-

 

“Oh my gods, Luce, check this one out,” Morgan whispered, sticking her head from around a shelf. She tossed a hardcover book in Lucina’s direction, a thick tome with a large sticker placed tastefully over the cover. Lucina frowned at it.

“Sorry…?” Lucina flipped it open. “Do you…do sex differently in Chon’sin? Why do you need a manual?”

Morgan shrugged. “I dunno, but the real question is, why is a book about Chon’sin sex written by a Ylissean?”

“Because Ylisseans write a lot of books?” Lucina’s face lit crimson as she flipped to a page that had a diagram on it. A very…thorough diagram. She snapped it shut. “Come on, put this back. I don’t want some poor minimum-wage employee to have to pick up our trail of books.”

Morgan took it and slid it back onto the shelf.

Lucina drifted listlessly from shelf to shelf, browsing the spines of weathered books. She hadn’t been to this bookstore in a long time - she kept meaning to go but never seemed to have the time. She remembered sifting through the stacks for comic books with Owain, and poring over crates and crates of used records with Brady. Shafts of light from the fluorescent yellow bulbs illuminated the dusty air. Books were crammed tight on the shelves, stacked to the ceiling, left in haphazard piles with handwritten notes signifying genres and authors and topics and ideas. She picked up a photography book filled with snapshots of Plegian bridges and wondered dimly who published this stuff.

Lucina sneezed.

“Oh, hey, how about this one?” Morgan poked her head from around another bookshelf and tossed a thin paperback novel at Lucina.

“ _ _Rise of the Dragon Cult__ ,” Lucina read dryly. “Is this a choose-your-own-adventure book?”

“Hell yeah it is,” Morgan emerged from the shelf with an armful of books, a pile of multicolored thin books. “Look, they have, like, the whole series. __Dragon Cult__ , __The Conqueror__ , even __The Dragon Priestess__.”

Lucina paged through one idly. A black-and-white picture depicted a faceless body on a stone slab. “Guess this one’s a bad ending, huh?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, trying to shove her books back onto a shelf.

“How about this one?” Lucina said, running a finger along the weathered spine of a book.

Morgan squinted at the faded text. __“The Carpenter?__ Ugh, I think I had to read that for a book report.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lucina slipped it from the shelf and turned to the inside cover. There was a name scrawled in sharpie, but it wasn’t one she recognized. That would have been quite the coincidence. “I got a C- because I made the whole thing about the princess being gay.”

“But she __was__ ,” Morgan gawked.

“Well, yeah, but we were supposed to talk about the imagery or the narrative devices or whatever.” Lucina put it back on the shelf. “I did get full marks on my __Tense Slip__  report though.”

“How did they even let you read that? Doesn’t that have sex in it?”

“Yeah? So does __Moonflower,__ and that was on the advanced literature exam.” Lucina peers out among the stacks of books. Music drifts from somewhere, something soft and smooth and layered with a saxophone. She unbuttons her jacket. It’s hot, crammed among the stacks of books and the dust and the whirring of an electric fan.

She watches Morgan kneel in front of a section labeled with a hand-written note that reads ‘Fantasy’. Morgan always did like that kind of thing. She watches Morgan’s motions, the way her shoulders tense, the movement of muscle beneath her tan skin, the shifting of her purple dress. Her heels click on the floor as she shifts.

“How about __The Twin Minstrels__?” Morgan asked.

Lucina wasn’t paying attention. She was enamored with Morgan’s shoulder blades, the way they’re framed by the straps of her dress.

She missed Morgan. She missed Morgan a lot.

 

-

 

“Hell. Yes.” Morgan’s eyes lit up with ecstasy as the server slid a milkshake across the counter at them. Lucina rocked back and forth on her stool, eyeing it with suspicion.

“You’re not gonna drink that whole thing, are you?” she asked.

“’Course not,” Morgan said, sticking a straw into the frothy chocolate foam and spinning it around to face Lucina. “You’re going to help.”

Lucina leaned on the diner counter and wrapped her lips around the straw. It tasted good - it always did, it was one of the staples at __Donny__ ’s. It was thick, and rich, and cold, and felt marvelous running down her sore throat. She had spent far too long keeping to herself to be able to shout song lyrics at the top of her lungs, into the rush of wind and air. She stirred the milkshake and spun it back towards Morgan.

“Gods, I missed this,” Morgan said, after taking a long draught. “Do you know how hard it is to get a good milkshake in Chon’sin?”

“You’d be hard-pressed to find one this good inYlisse, too,” Lucina plucked another straw from the counter and stuck it into the milkshake.

“Mmhm,” Morgan mumbled into her straw. “Oh, ow. Ow. Ow. Brainfreeze.”

Lucina laughed and slid the milkshake away from Morgan. “Take it easy there, Morgy. It’s just a milkshake.”

“Ow,” Morgan rubbed her temples.

Lucina slipped her jacket off her shoulders and folded it in her lap. She wished she hadn’t worn so many damn layers. The reunion venue had been air conditioned, but now she was sweating - a tank top, button-up shirt, and jacket was a little too warm for June. She loosened her tie.

“How’s everyone else been?” Morgan asked, smoothing out the ruffles of her skirt. “I talked to Kjelle a bit, and Nah, but I didn’t see many others.”

“Sev, Owain, and Inigo are still traveling,” Lucina said. “Kjelle’s back from Ferox, has been for a few months now.”

“Yeah, she said,” Morgan nodded. “You hear from Noire?”

Lucina shrugged. “She’s doing okay, I think.”

“Still with her mom?”

Lucina grimaced. “Yeah, last I heard.”

“Shame.”

“Mmhm,” Lucina agreed. Morgan took another drink of their shared milkshake and Lucina watched the quickly dwindling treat drain from the glass.

“What about you?” Morgan asked at last, leaning back.

“Huh?” Lucina looked up, trying to pretend she had been looking anywhere but Morgan’s face. Her soft features, her skin, the curve of her lips around the straw, her black hair framing her face in unkempt waves. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Morgan pushed the milkshake back Lucina’s direction. “How have you been?”

Lucina shrugged. “It’s been…y’know.”

Morgan patted her shoulder. “You been…okay?”

The question had more meaning than Lucina had hoped it would. She and Morgan had been friends, once upon a time. Still were, theoretically, even if they hadn’t spoken in forever. Even if being together was like a hand in a glove.

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes. “Yeah. It’s…it’s been hard.”

“Sorry.”

Lucina smiled weakly. “Look, Morgan, it’s…” Her words faltered and failed her.

What could she say? What even was there to say? Morgan had been gone for years, and the last thing she needed was Lucina breaking into pieces in front of her. Lucina’s heart ached. She missed her friends, she missed when life was easier, she missed her father being happier, she missed the simplicity of her childhood. But that was a juvenile desire, wasn’t it? And wasn’t the comfort she found here in Morgan just because it let her play out that fantasy, just one last time?

She was twenty-five years old. She wasn’t meant to be drinking milkshakes in a neon-lit diner at one in the morning. She had work on Monday. She had a job, responsibilities. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

“You in there, Luce?” Morgan tapped her knee.

“Hm?” Lucina looked up. “Yeah, sorry. Maybe I should just go home.”

Morgan frowned. “You know what I want to do?”

Lucina stirred the chocolaty remnants of their milkshake and looked up. “What?”

 

-

 

Lucina leaned back on the hood of the car and stared up at the sky. It was a warm night, bright and cloudless, and the moon shone like a silver coin in the windshield.

Morgan sat on the hood of the car at her side, legs crossed, sipping a can of cola. She sighed.

“This what you wanted?”

Morgan looked from Lucina to the skyline before them - the city sparkling in light, framed in the deep purple of night, shifting hues of red and yellow lights dotting the skyline. The overlook was beautiful, as beautiful as it had always been, even if the skyline was a little different. There were two more skyscrapers since Morgan had last been here, but beyond that, it was the city she had known and loved. Morgan crushed her cola can and popped the tab on a second.

“Hey, you going to save any of those for me?” Lucina nudged her ribs. She had given up on her formal-wear by this point in the night. She had left her tie crumpled in a pile in the backseat and unbuttoned her shirt, letting the night air caress her shoulders. Her tank top was sweaty, but it was pushing 2am, and Morgan had seen her in far worse states. Morgan passed her a can of cola.

“So what are those new things?” Morgan gestures her can at the skyline. “The big black one there, and the one with the blue neon lights at the base.”

“Oh, that’s a new telecom building,” Lucina explained. “They put it up a few years ago, and the other one is the new headquarters for…” She frowned. “Uh...I don’t even know, honestly. A hotel chain I think.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

The cola feels sticky and thick in Lucina’s throat. It’s warm, freshly purchased from a convenience store and taken from its cardboard case, but it feels good. It feels familiar. It washes out the taste of white wine and absence. She swallows.

“Anything else change?”

“Not really,” Lucina shrugged and readjusted, letting her shirt dip lower down her shoulders. The cool glass of the windshield felt nice against her bare skin, and she had half a mind to strip her shirt off entirely. Morgan still sat up, cross-legged on the hood, and Lucina stared at her back.

“Never does, huh?”

“Chon’sin was nice, though?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I’d love to visit, someday.”

Morgan laughed. “Gods, do you remember when we were like…what, twelve? And you said you were gonna marry me just because you wanted to go to Chon’sin?”

Lucina laughed. “Oh, gods, don’t remind me.” She swiped lazily at Morgan’s back. “I was twelve, apparently the concept of vacations was beyond me.”

“Well, everyone knows that marriage is the only reason you can visit anywhere.”

“Psh, at least I wasn’t like you! Who did you have a crush on? Oh, gods, was it Owain?”

Morgan almost spit up her soda. “Gods, don’t remind me.”

“He’s a fine man,” Lucina smirked. “I’m sure he’d be a great husband.”

Morgan shifted backwards and Lucina watched her purple dress shimmering in the moonlight. Morgan turned and smiled shyly, and her black hair rustled in the warm wind. She took another sip of her coke.

Lucina stared at her, something stirring in her chest. It felt good to know that at least someone hadn’t changed, hadn’t left. Morgan had __come back__ , even.

“Yeah, well. He’s weird.” Morgan said at last, leaning against the windshield at Lucina’s side. She stared up at the sky. “I mean, he’s fine. It’s whatever, just. How come kids always have the crushes on the weirdest people?”

“Explains why I wanted to marry __you__ ,” Lucina jabbed a finger into Morgan’s ribs and let her fingers linger on the fabric of her dress maybe a little longer than she should have. It was a light fabric, soft and thin, and she could feel the warmth of Morgan’s skin beneath it.

“Maybe you were just mesmerized by my… _ _exotic__  nature.”

Lucina pushed herself up on her elbows. “Oh, so eating nothing but pudding for lunch is a Plegian thing?”

“Uh, it’s a Chon’sin thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

Lucina nudged her again. “Yeah, right. So which part of your heritage was the pitfall digging?”

“Oh, that’s just because I like diggin’ holes.”

“Gods, you’re so weird,” Lucina smiled. She drained the remnants of her soda can and crushed it. She closed her eyes. She felt tired, but it was the good kind of tired, like the evening after a day at the beach. Her limbs were fatigued but her mind felt peaceful, and despite the contents of her stomach, she felt…okay. She opened her eyes and watched Morgan, watched her readjust, sip her soda, watched the way her hair shifted in the breeze. Morgan stared at the sky.

“It’s different in Chon’sin, you know.”

“Hm?”

“The sky. It’s…” Morgan waves her soda can. “The stars are different.”

“Well, yeah. It’s the other side of the planet. That’s how stars work.”

“I…I missed home a lot.”

“Yeah. It…it missed you too.”

Morgan closed her eyes. “It’s a little cold,” she said, softly.

Lucina draped her jacket over Morgan’s bare shoulders.

 

-

 

Lucina downshifted as she pulled into Morgan’s driveway. It was a new house, not the place they had had all those years ago. Her headlights shined across the garage door as the car rumbled to a stop and idled in the driveway next to what she assumed was Robin’s car. She shifted into park.

“Here we are,” she said with some finality.

Morgan was leaning on the window, staring out into her yard.

“You in there?” Lucina smiled, nudging her leg.

“Huh? Yeah,” Morgan sat up and slumped back into her seat. She leaned forward and turned the radio down. Lucina’s jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, too big for her slender frame.

“So…now what?” Lucina asked. She unbuckled and fussed with the bottom hem of her now-unbuttoned-and-untucked shirt.

“Uh…” Morgan pursed her lips. “I’ll…see you later, I guess? You still have the same number that you did in high school?”

“Hm? No, I got a new phone,” Lucina said, reaching back into the backseat to fumble for her phone. “Let me grab my new one.”

Morgan fished her own phone out of her purse.

“Oh my god, is your phone background Karel?” Lucina leaned forward back into the front seat. “I didn’t know you watched that show!”

Morgan clutched her phone to her chest possessively. “What! He’s cool!”

“Gods, do you think he’s hot?”

“No…”

“He’s such a jerk, though! Oh, and he’s so edgy!”

“Please, it’s not like I made my background __Jaffar__  or something. That dude’s edgy.”

Lucina smirked. “Oh look at me, I’m a sad assassin, boo hoo.”

“Nino’s cute though.”

“She’s __super__  cute.”

“What were we even doing?”

“Uh…” Lucina frowned. “Ah! Phone numbers.” She paged through her phone for her contacts page and grinned. “Hey, check it out.”

Morgan’s face erupted into a pink blush. “Luce, am I still in your phone as ‘MorgyPorgy’?”

“Have been since I got my first phone,” Lucina grinned.

“Ugh, that means I need an embarrassing nickname for you, right?” Morgan leaned back, holding her phone out of Lucina’s reach. “How about…” she said, typing with deliberate slowness. “’Demonspanker’.”

“Demonspanker?!” Lucina practically yelped, lunging across the car for her phone. “Did Owain give you that one or something?”

“If anything, I should be in your phone as ‘girl I wanted to marry’,” Morgan said, sticking her tongue out.

Lucina’s hand grazed her shoulder, her knuckles brushing warm skin, and Lucina’s stomach dropped. She coiled backwards to her own seat, blushing, fuming. She breathed slowly as she watched Morgan typing.

Morgan looked up, shaking her black bangs from her eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Uh…” Lucina fumbled over the words. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. “Numbers.”

“Oh, yeah,” Morgan said, sitting up straight. “Here’s mine.”

Lucina dutifully copied it into her phone before sitting up and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She stifled another laugh. “Okay, uh…brunch? Does that sound okay?”

“Tomorrow?”

Lucina tapped the car’s clock. “Well, today-”

Morgan swiped her hand back. “Lame joke!”

Lucina let Morgan brush her hand away, let her touch linger, their skin of their hands connected at just a single point, palm against knuckles.

“So…brunch,” Lucina said, finally dropping her hand.

“Brunch,” Morgan nodded. She ran a hand through her hair. “Uh…pancakes sound good?”

“Sure,” Lucina said. “Here, let me send a test text to make sure I got it right.”

Morgan’s phone buzzed with a text - a small pancakes symbol sat in her inbox. She smiled. “You dork.”

Lucina ‘s phone buzzed too - a new message from her new contact, a little pink heart. “Aw, you love me.”

Morgan stuck her tongue out before pulling back. “Hey, is that diner still open? The one on…urgh…7th? The one by the river.”

“Yeah, I think so. Haven’t been there in forever.”

“Want to go?”

“Sure,” Lucina made a note of it. “Pick you up at eleven?”

“Eleven?” Morgan gawked. “Lucina, it’s like three. Everyone knows I need at least ten hours of beauty rest. How else will I maintain my beautiful, immaculate hair?” she taunted, ruffling her unkempt black waves.

Lucina reaches across the car and buried her fingers in Morgan’s hair, grasping her scalp and shaking her. “Oh, like this? Is this how you style your hair in the morning?” She tried to pretend it wasn’t the touch that mattered, the feeling of twining her fingers through Morgan’s feathery hair, the softness of her touch, the warm of Morgan’s skin as she grasped Lucina’s hand to push her back.

“Okay,” Morgan said with finality. “I…I should probably go. My moms’re probably wondering why a car has been idling in our driveway for half an hour.”

“Yeah,” Lucina said, exhaling. She checked the backseat. “You want to take the rest of those colas?”

“Eh, keep ‘em,” Morgan waved, “They can live back there for next time.”

“A brunch cocktail, warm cola,” Lucina smiled. She tried to undo the knot in her stomach, but it wouldn’t unwind itself. She leaned back against the open driver’s-side window and let her hair drape into the night air before sitting up again.

“Yeah, sure,” Morgan smiled. “Uh…” she fumbled, eyes darting around the car, trying to latch onto anything, anything at all that she could talk about, anything to stop her inevitable exit. “You’re not going to show up in those clothes, right? Make people think its a brunch-of-shame?”

“Oh, please,” Lucina smiled. “I think eating brunch in a disheveled suit is a rite of passage in some places. Besides, __you’re__  wearing my jacket.”

“Oh, crap, right!” Morgan leans forward and shimmies out of the over-sized suit jacket, and as she does one of her straps slips from her shoulder. Lucina reaches forward and catches it, tugging it back up to position.

“Can’t have you looking too suspicious, huh?” she smiled. “Don’t want your mom jumping down my throat for something like that.”

Morgan stares at her. Lucina’s jacket is bunched around her waist, freed from her shoulders, and Lucina’s fingers still hold the strap of her dress. Lucina looks so handsome, framed in the moonlight, her indigo hair shimmering, reflecting the glow of the car radio. Her button-up shirt, hung so loosely on her shoulders, the tank top that frames her slim body and tense muscles. Morgan shifts slightly.

“I mean…maybe that’s what I want them to think.”

Lucina’s fingers trace the strap of Morgan’s dress. “Oh?”

“It’s not like we haven’t kissed before.”

“I don’t think truth-or-dare counts, least of all when you’re fourteen.”

“So it didn’t count?” Morgan’s voice is low, breathy.

“Well…maybe.”

“Maybe?” She can feel Lucina’s voice on her lips. They’re close. Closer than she had thought. Lucina’s eyes are like mirrors. Her hand traces the dip of her shoulder, the length of her collarbone.

“Do you want it to count?” Lucina’s voice is low, too, and in the dim moonlight Morgan can see her chest rising and falling.

“I think we could do better.”

“Better?” Lucina’s head tilts sideways, their cheeks almost touching, their lips inches apart.

“For first kisses.” Morgan can practically taste her.

Lucina kissed her first. Their lips connected like sparks dancing along a wire, like fire catching in a furnace, a warmth and heat that boiled up from inside. Lucina kissed her, and kissed her again, and again, and again, her lips firm and soft, her hand tracing the curve of her jaw, the rise of her cheek, the soft lightness of her hair. Lucina clutches at a fistful of her hair and kisses her again, parting her lips with her tongue, pushing into the soft warmth of her mouth. Morgan responds in kind, slipping her hands beneath the open sides of Lucina’s shirt, clutching her tank top, urging her closer, urging her further, urging her deeper into her mouth.

A moan slips between them, and neither are sure whose it was, but it doesn’t matter, because all that matters is their lips pressed together, their tongues tracing tender shapes against the other, their hot skin and their nipping teeth, and Lucina closes her eyes and sinks into Morgan’s scent and her taste and the feeling of her grasping hands against her shirt.

Morgan shifts her hands upwards, desperately pulling at Lucina’s shirt, trying to tug it from her shoulders. She wants more, she wants harder, she wants deeper. She traces the muscles of Lucina’s arms, digs her fingers into Lucina’s shoulders. She breaks their kiss to drop lower, to kiss her jaw, her neck, to sink her teeth into her soft, delicate flesh. There is no doubt about who moans.

Lucina arches herself forward into Morgan’s grip, desperate, aching, needy. She wants Morgan, and nothing but her. She curses the awkwardness of their seats, the ill placement of the gearshift, the hard plastic of the seatbelt buckles, the soft patter of music from the radio. She kisses her, pulling her hair to tug her up from her neck and back to her lips. And she kisses her again.

The straps fall from Morgan’s shoulders and it takes every ounce of Lucina’s power not to pounce on her, to lunge across the car and tug her dress down further, to sink her teeth into the soft skin of Morgan’s breast. Instead she catches the straps before they fall too far, and she kissed down her neck, and she presses her lips into Morgan’s collarbone.

Morgan shudders, grasping at Lucina’s hair, pushing her down farther.

“M-Morgan,” Lucina mutters, her face buried in Morgan’s now-scandalously low neckline. “Morgan.”

Her breath feels hot on Morgan’s breasts and she shifts back, responding in kind, Lucina’s name on her lips. “Luce,” she whispers, breathlessly. “Luce.”

 

-

 

Lucina yawned and dragged herself out of bed slowly, fumbling across her dark bedroom for the bathroom. Her silk pajama shirt hangs loosely on her shoulders, just barely covering her absence of underwear. But it was a Sunday morning (she thought), and her father was out (she hoped), and she was a grown woman and can wear what she wants. She stumblesd into the bathroom and turned the light on.

She frowned. In the soft fluorescent light and the haze of morning sunlight, she could see very clearly dark bruises dotted along her collar and her neck. Her cheeks burned.

Her phone rested on the edge of the sink. It buzzed.

Noon, she grimaced, picking it up. The message was simple, just three characters - a stack of pancakes framed in hearts. She smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you like my words, I take commissions! You can email me at cowboysneep@gmail.com or shoot me a message at lucisevofficial.tumblr.com to discuss!


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